Verse 12
by Meret
Summary: Someone else visited Lee in the hangar before the mission during Hand of God.


Title: Verse 12

Author: Meret

Email: PG

Spoilers : Everything up to Hand of God

Disclaimer: Not mine. I wish they were.

Summary: Someone else visited Lee in the hangar before the mission during Hand of God.

Author's Note: Many thanks to my fabulous beta reader, Julia K! Her suggestions were extremely helpful.

The battle lies not in the stars but in ourselves. -- 2nd Book of Pythia, Chapter 5, Verse 12

Thanks, Dad, he thought as he listened to him leave. Because I'm your father. What the frak was that supposed to mean? Lee's knuckles turned white as he gripped the lighter harder. Love had never blinded his father to Lee's faults before, only Zack's, so he seriously doubted it was sentiment. Was he meant to take comfort in the fact that he was lucky enough to share the great William "Husker" Adama's DNA and would therefore succeed? He gritted his teeth. No argument from him that his grandfather had been a better father.

Didn't anyone in this frakking ship believe in him? It was the end of the world, and things were still exactly the same. Pretty face, pretty lineage; everyone so sure he couldn't have possibly gotten where he was based on his abilities.

Did he actually have to die to get some privacy, Lee thought as he turned toward the sound of approaching footsteps echoing on the steps of the hangar deck.

It wasn't his father returning, as he'd half feared, half hoped, but President Roslin. He scrambled upright. "Madam President. Can I help you?"

"Actually I was hoping I could help you, or that we could help each other." She held up a half empty bottle of ambrosia and two octagon shot glasses. "May I join you?"

"Of course." He smiled politely, putting the lighter in his pocket.

She poured a small amount into each glass, then raised hers in salute. "Good hunting."

Lee clinked his glass to hers, and they both swallowed. The smoothest liquid fire ran down his throat and settled in his belly; he could feel the knots there being burned away. Maybe this was what he'd needed.

"The alcohol won't interfere with your mission, will it?" she said, suddenly concerned.

"No, even I can handle one little shot," he said, far more bitterly than he'd intended. "I'll be fine by flight time." He looked away, adding under his breath, "As fine as I ever get, anyway."

"I'm sorry, Captain. I didn't mean to imply --"

"No, I'm sorry. It's been an … unpleasant day, and I had no right to take it out on you."

"I think you're allowed this once," she said reassuringly, peering over her glasses. "You're about to save the fleet."

Snorting, Lee set the glass down where he had been sitting. "Your polling needs work. Starbuck is the favorite to save the fleet. The odds on me aren't nearly as good." His mother would kill him for speaking so casually to the president. If his mother was still alive that is.

"They'll revoke my political membership card for saying this, but I've never thought much of polling." She rested against the support, turning her head toward him.

"Thank you, Madam President, but by your own admission, you're not the best judge when it comes to military matters." Lee closed his eyes briefly. Laura was easy to talk to, and even easier to listen to. She had the most melodic speaking voice he had ever heard.

"Listen, Captain Apollo," she said deliberately, then paused. "Lee. Look at me."

He glanced up, and she leaned in close to him.

Laura spoke quietly, looking into his eyes. "There is no one in the entire fleet I would rather

have lead this mission. You are the one who saved us on Colonial One during the initial attack, and you are the one who will save us all now."

He searched her face, judging her sincerity. "Is that an order?" he finally asked, a real smile on his face this time.

"Does it need to be?"

"No. I am going to succeed," Lee said firmly.

"I know." Picking up the bottle and glasses, she added, "I'll save the rest for you when you get back." She squeezed his shoulder, lingering for the briefest of seconds. "I'll leave you to your thoughts."

"Madame President," he called out to her as she left.

She turned on the stairs.

"Thank you."

"You're very welcome."

Still smiling, he watched her walk away.


End file.
